Things That Go Bump in the Night
by Allore
Summary: Meet Elissa Cousland. Newly made Queen, her friends have departed, her husbands demon child is haunting her, and she's having trouble keeping this crown on her head. Everything a girl could ask for right?
1. Shadow

_Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Dragon Age or its characters, they are property of Bioware._

* * *

_Things That Go Bump In the Night_

Of all the things Elissa had been preparing herself to face in the upcoming hours, this was certainly not one of them.

It had only been moments ago that Morrigan had quietly summoned her into her sleeping quarters. The usually collected and reserved woman had a hint of nervousness upon her, causing Elissa to fidget with anticipation and what was to be discussed. Sensing the other woman's discomfort, Morrigan motioned her towards the soothing warmth of the fireplace, hoping to put both of them at ease.

"Morrigan…" Elissa began.

Morrigan's eyes flickered in the firelight, holding her gaze on her leader, friend, and what had come to feel like a _sister. _For her, it wasn't the deed that sickened her, but more so the pain she knew Elissa would be feeling, no matter how much she feigned indifference. She briefly wondered if she should forget about the ritual, but quickly put down the thought. _No. A few hurt feelings are not worth digging graves for._

"I am glad you have come. I realize you probably have much to do before tomorrow comes, but it is precisely the outcome of tomorrow which I have asked to talk about." said Morrigan.

"Nobody will blame you if you want to leave now. If I weren't a Grey Warden myself I probably would not want to find myself anywhere near the battlefield tomorrow."

Morrigan shook her head.

"No, I plan to be present for the battle. I do not think to abandon you, Elissa."

A pause.

"I know the price that comes with killing the Archdemon. I know a life must be paid, one of _your _lives. Suppose Riordan does not succeed? Suppose it is you and Alistair tomorrow faced with Archdemon. What then?"

Elissa shifted her gaze to the carpet.

"Then we will do what needs to be done." She said quietly.

"But what if there were another way? A way that guarantees both of your lives."

Elissa's head snapped up at that. She closed the spaced between her and Morrigan and clamped her hands on the woman's bare shoulders, her eyes locking onto her intently.

"Morrigan. You must tell me right now what this is about. If you know some other way, if there is _some _possibility that we can survive…"

"There is. It is a form of old magic, a very old kind. But it comes at a personal price."

"Anything."

Morrigan took a breath. "A child must be conceived with a Grey Warden. In this way, when the Archdemon dies its essence will seek the child who is fresh and full of potential, the perfect host for the soul of an Old God. The child, being just conceived, will be able to support this without dying in the process."

Elissa frowned. "But Morrigan, Alistair cannot impregnate me because of the taint. Or if we could have a child, it would be with _much _difficulty. I don't see how this can work."

And that was when Elissa noticed Morrigan's face. The guilty look, the hint of sadness in her eyes. The pain she felt for what she had to ask of her.

"Oh…"

"Elissa. I would not ask this of you if it were not absolutely a last resort. I do _not _wish to hurt you like this. But this is a guarantee of _life_. It is way for you and Alistair to be together without death."

There was no time for tears or for consideration. Elissa accepted the offer and left to find Alistair, fighting the lump that was rising in her throat and the pit in her stomach that was dragging her heart down.

-

It was Zevran who walked in on her, crumpled on the floor, a bottle of Eamon's best wine emptied next to her. Her blood red hair was undone from its usual braided buns, her fair skin blotchy, her hazel eyes red and swollen.

She had briskly walked out from Morrigan and Alistair's congregation. She couldn't stand to be there any longer. While she was part hopeful for this ritual to work, she was more so enraged and broken-hearted at the thought of Alistair and Morrigan conceiving a child together. It was something she could probably never give him and here was another woman so easily making it happen. She proceeded to the furthest reach of the estate. This happened to be near the wine cellar where she had plundered Eamon's stores and uncorked many expensive bottles carelessly as she drowned the fury of emotion inside her. It was her luck that no one was in that area at the time because surely they'd have been rushing to her wailing and the sound of glass breaking against the wall.

She had fallen on her knees and raked her nails through her hair, ripping out a handful of strands in agony, cursing the Maker with profanity that would make a sailor wince.

_Why? Why can't something just be MINE for once? Why does everything have to be taken away? My family was taken by a selfish bastard, my home was burned down by his men, my body was taken by the taint. The one thing I tried to hold on to, the one thing that mattered to me anymore…why?! _

She had lain on the cold stone and cried like a child until Zevran opened the door.

He had picked her up and carried her to her room, laid her on the bed, and sat there offering silent comfort. Elissa clung to him, gradually feeling calmer.

_Zevran._

Companion, friend, lover.

He was always there when she needed him, and though their midnight meetings were short-lived and purely on necessity, Elissa still held a spot for him in her heart. His concern for her touched her when she most needed it.

"Zev…"

"My dear?"

"Thank you."

He squeezed her hand, smiling his signature coy smile.

Elissa buried her face in the pillow.

"How…what should I say to him? I don't even know…Maker…"

Zevran stood then, crossing to the door. He secured the latch and turned back to Elissa.

"You're in no shape to face anyone tonight. It hurts me so to see such loveliness be wasted on-"

"Zev."

Zevran smiled and shrugged his shoulders. It was in his nature, of course.

"Elissa, dear. Do not trouble your pretty head further. Let me deal with any disturbances tonight. You need to catch what sleep you can."

She let out a shaky sigh and nodded absentmindedly. _Yes, he's right of course. Tomorrow is bigger than this, than me, than us. I can't throw it all away over a broken heart. _

She fell into an uneasy sleep, dreams plagued with whispers in the dark, dragons commanding the skies, and a child with Morrigan's piercing eyes.

_A/N: I haven't written a story in quite some time, mostly I have been the silent observer here on . But I guess there is a time to pick up the pen (or in this case to tap the keyboard) and begin again. I hope this chapter wasn't too angsty or sappy, but it's necessary to make it clear how Elissa felt that night of the dark ritual in order for the rest of the story to unfold properly. Reviews please!_


	2. Duty

_Disclaimer: Though I've wished upon many stars, I still do not own or claim to own DragonAge._

* * *

Queen Elissa impatiently tapped her fingers on the desk of her study. She had been writing thank you letters all afternoon and frankly she was running low on the amount of gratitude she could pour out. She set down her quill and leaned back in the velvet cushioned chair. Before her lay two neat piles of paper. One pile contained blank, golden-edge sheets waiting for her tidy handwriting to flow upon them. The other pile contained all the open letters of congratulations countless nobles, political persons, and anyone else of importance had sent her. And on the floor next to her desk, was a basket containing all the sealed replies she had managed to write in the past three hours. She cracked her knuckles and sighed. Glancing out the window, she noted the sun was visibly lower than it had been when she had begun her task.

_Time to call it a day._

Gathering up the unused parchment and slipping it into the respective cabinet, Elissa stood up and swept out of the study. She walked aimlessly through the halls, smiling absentmindedly when a guard saluted, or when a servant bowed. Her feet carried her down flights of stairs, past the kitchens, and out into the royal gardens. The gardeners were trimming the bushes and trees into clever shapes, while the maids were picking the sweetest blossoms for the evening table's décor. But Elissa just waved her hand, and found herself alone within moments. It was then that she breathed a sigh of relief.

Sitting on the crisp grass, her back against a fruit tree, she closed her eyes. A cool breeze swept over her face. It was late spring in Denerim. The days were a marvel to enjoy outside, but she had had so little time with the rush of duties and everything that came attached to a crown. It seemed like she hadn't been outside for years, the earth felt foreign to her, its smells and sounds were new and magical. The sweet song of the birds nesting soothed her and she felt her accumulated tension slowly melt away.

It had been a tense last few months.

The battle for Ferelden had been trying and the price was paid in blood. However, she and Alistair had walked out of if together, as Morrigan had promised. True to her word, the woman had disappeared shortly after, rumored to have been seen crossing the Frostbacks.

There had been no time to grieve.

Immediately after the Archdemon's fall, they were whisked to Denerim for a coronation ceremony. And she was announced as Alistair's bride-to-be, future Queen of Ferelden.

Wedding plans were put into effect right away. Much to Leliana's delight, an entire staff of Orlesian seamstresses and shoemakers were employed to suit the King and Queen. She spent many pleasant weeks going over the details of Elissa's gown and shoes and which jewels to adorn her with. It had been a lacy nightmare for Elissa, but it gave her pleasure to see her friend so radiant and happy.

While many of her former companions were ready to go their own ways, each had agreed to at least stick around for the wedding. She was grateful for that, because truly, they were like a second family to her.

Speaking of family, Fergus had made his way to Denerim upon hearing his little sister was the fabled Archdemon slayer and fiancée of the King. He was thinner than she remembered, and looked as if he had aged a couple of years more than he had. But the Blight had been hard on everyone, and Elissa embraced him enthusiastically when he presented himself to the court. When the matter of Arl Howe's lands came up, Elissa adamantly demanded they become Cousland property. So Fergus was restored to Teyrn of Highever, and now had an extra bundle of land to do whatever he wished with.

The wedding itself had been grand. There was much to celebrate and no luxury was overlooked. Elissa walked down the aisle in a masterpiece. The dress, a product of Leliana's imagination no doubt, was of the finest silk, pale gold in color and with a long delicate train. It was strapless and the bust was curved delicately but tastefully. The waist was sewn with a chain of rubies and small diamonds littered the skirt. The shoes, oh the shoes.

_Leliana must have given that Orlesian shoemaker hell._

The first shoes created were a lacy ankle boot with small pearl buttons down the front. Leliana had raged to the shoemaker that they were not at all complimentary to the dress and that he was designing for a _Queen _and not some simple governess. Taking matters into her own hands, Leliana had created the ultimate wedding slipper. The design was simple, yet screamed of status. The shoes were a closed toe stiletto, made of enchanted glass. Inside the heel and fluttering down the platform were tiny diamonds in a rainbow of color: pink, baby blues, yellow, white, green. When Elissa walked, the diamonds caught the sunlight and gave of a tiny brilliant flash, like tiny stars exploding.

Her hair was loose and curly with her crown set in place and besides a simple pair of ruby studs, she wore nothing else.

Elissa remembered the actual wedding in a hazy blur. She had walked down the aisle, her eyes focused on Alistair, her smile brilliant. He was radiant. Dressed in a glittering platinum mail, he was her knight from a fairytale coming to rescue her. His warm blue eyes met her hopeful hazels and she forgot there had been a Blight, darkspawn, or anything wrong with the world. She saw a future. Happiness.

The ring Alistair had sent to be made for her was a delicate platinum band with a large oval diamond in the center, flanked by six small rubies on each side. The engraving on the inside read _Alistair's Rose._

She had smiled then, remembering that rose he had given her one night in Lothering.

_Something beautiful in a time where all else was bleak._

She had been happy then, she had felt accomplished.

It wasn't until a week after, when Wynne had come to her announcing her leave that Elissa began to feel the suffocation of marriage and her duties as queen.

_I need to do this, your Majesty._

_Please, Wynne. No formalities between us._

_I want to find my mortality. I don't wish to remain here longer on borrowed time. Shale has agreed to accompany me._

_May the Maker watch over you both._

She had seen Wynne and Shale go with a heavy heart.

A few weeks later, Leliana had come to her with a petition to embark on a pilgrimage to Andraste's Ashes. She wanted to lead further pilgrimages afterwards to guide those who wished to deepen their spirituality.

_It is my chance to give others the same chance the Maker gave me. I am so grateful for all he has given me. I know this will benefit many._

_But can't you just work at the Chantry in Denerim?_

_No. Andraste calls to me, Elissa. Can you not hear her?_

But Elissa could not. So Lelianna left for her pilgrimage and Elissa became even more buried.

Sten's departure she was prepared for.

_My duty is done._

She smiled at the memory of ever-stoic Sten. He had gone home to his people.

But the final person to go…

_Antiva?! But I can offer you money, beautiful women, everything you want, right here!_

_Elissa, my sweet. You have no need of me now. The Crows are no longer looking for me and you have many assassins at your royal fingertips now._

_But I __**need **__you, Zev. Please don't leave me here alone!_

_Alone? My dear you live in a palace. That is hardly being alone._

_You know what I mean._

_Elissa. I am no one to make a fuss over. Beautiful men will come and go for you. I am not so needed here as you think._

_Will I ever see you again?_

_Perhaps._

She had cried that night. Angrily. She told Alistair she was just overcome with the stress of her new duties. He gracefully took on some of the tasks himself from then on, but Elissa knew the real reason. Zevran was her cushion. The person who softened the blow each time it came. She never had forgotten that awful night when Alistair…

Elissa snapped out of her reminiscing.

She didn't want to think about _that. _

But that night as she lay next to Alistair, the thought came creeping again. It had become more persistent each night now. That nagging whisper about Morrigan's whereabouts and the child she and Alistair had created in shadow. The darkness of the room concealed her wounded gaze as she looked upon Alistair's sleeping form.

Sure they had done this for Ferelden.

Sure _he _had done this because _she _had told him to.

But the feeling of anger towards this unseen threat continued.

She found no peace in her dreams that night, only images of Morrigan and the glowing golden eyes.


	3. Regrets

_Disclaimer: I do not own DragonAge, Bioware does. _

* * *

A week later Elissa found herself in Highever of all places. And it was Fergus who finally sat down with his sister and she was able to confide in someone her pain, anger, and frustration.

-

"I don't CARE!" Elissa screamed. "I wish I had never agreed to that sordid deal to begin with!"

"Elissa, you or Alistair, or _both_, would be dead right now. You are looking at this the wrong way."

Elissa turned to face him with tears in her eyes.

"It has ruined my marriage, for Andraste's sake! It has ruined the life I had planned to have with Alistair. It has ruined any hope or happiness I had of motherhood. He has a _child, _Fergus. A child who _I _chose to bring into existence for fear of death and would never have come to be otherwise. Do you not think it hurts? I can't look at him the same anymore."

"Why are you faulting Alistair for this? He only did what you yourself begged him to. Are you going to punish him for your rash decisions?"

"He had a free will last time I checked, Fergus. "

"He is in LOVE with you. Free will be damned! Isn't that why you went through with this? For love?"

"Whatever love we had it's all but gone now." said Elissa, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

Fergus eyed his baby sister. She had lost weight, her hair was more coppery than vibrant red, her skin had lost its healthy glow, and she looked generally distraught all the time. He couldn't recall a time in his life when he had seen her so beaten down. Even when he was reunited with her after the Blight, after the death of their family and two years of hardship and violence, Elissa had greeted him with a beaming smile and a sparkle in her eye. She was a survivor, this sister of his. She was one to take a fall and spring right up. To see her like this…

_This child is taking its toll upon her. _

"The boy must die."

Fergus blinked.

"How do you know if it's a boy?"

"I see him. In my dreams, he comes and haunts me there. He is all of Morrigan, from the black hair to the golden eyes. If I can find out where she is hiding him…"

"Elissa, think about what you are saying! You are plotting to kill an innocent child because of some paranoid ideas you have. Didn't the witch make herself clear to you? The lad would never meet you, nor Alistair. She had probably not even told him who his father is."

Elissa raked a hand through her hair. She was doing that a lot recently, causing the servant girls to remark on her thinning locks. She looked at her hand and at the lack-luster strands that clung between her fingers.

_When did things get so bad?_

She sank into a plush chair. Putting her hands up to hide her face, Elissa let out a small sob. How could she be reduced to this nervous wreck? She was a heroine, a skilled and fearless battle maiden not so long ago. She had gutted darkspawn for sport and had commanded the armies of Ferelden to bring down the Archdemon. She had risked everything and still laughed in the face of adversity. She was not this trembling girl who jumped at shadows on the wall of her bedroom at night. She had once been a radiant beacon of hope, a beloved queen and defender. Now she was brought news of gossip spreading that she was ill, that the King had found a mistress, that she was dying of the taint, that she was possessed by a demon from the Fade. The people pulled many stories out to pinpoint the cause of her sudden demise. This was no way for a queen to be. She had to be strong, she had to push this obstacle behind. She had to leave that ill-done deed in the shadows where it had been made.

Elissa lifted her face, a new determination upon her.

"Fergus, please have a carriage ready for my departure tomorrow. I have many duties I must attend to immediately and I can delay them no longer. Plus, it's not fair to Alistair that he should shoulder both of our responsibilities."

Fergus did not press his sister, calling for a small caravan to be assembled for departure in the morning.

-

Alistair dismissed his council for the day and requested his dinner be brought to his rooms.

It had been a long day of foreign negotiations. Strongs ties had been established with the Orlesians, now they were working on foreign policies concerning trade between the two countries. It seemed to be a popular trend now for Orlesian wives to be brought home to Ferelden and these refined ladies would not part with their Orlesian silks and fashions. Trade between Orlais and Ferelden was booming and old routes were being secured and expanded for the tide of merchants that passed through. He hoped to establish the same relationship with Antiva and was expecting the ambassador to arrive sometime next week.

Grey Warden recruiting was also rising. With the Wardens' heroicness still fresh in the people's minds, more and more men and women were enlisting and the numbers kept growing. He felt like he was fulfilling some unsaid promise to Duncan.

_Duncan…_

Duncan's body had been retrieved from Ostagar immediately. While Alistair commissioned a monument to be built for his fallen mentor, the funeral itself was private. It was in Duncan's birthplace, a small village in Highever, that he was laid to rest in an ivory casket fit for a king. Alistair had not wept, but rather had felt a relief to finally have given Duncan the burial he deserved. Elissa had brought Duncan's shield and laid it in his casket before it was closed forever. It was one of the few occasions in recent weeks where he and Elissa had shared a moment.

She was so distant now, and he was beginning to resent it. He had done everything in his power at the moment to ease her pain. He sent her flowers, jewels, poems, had taken her on moonlit escapades. But Elissa's happiness over all of those was fleeting. She always turned back to him with those sad eyes and half-smile.

When she asked him to visit her brother in Highever, he readily agreed. Perhaps some time off would help mend her wounds.

Alistair was no fool.

Though Elissa claimed that it was her friends' partings that did it in for her, he knew that was not solely it.

Ever since that forsaken night, she had been altered.

-

_Alistair disentangled himself from Morrigan. It was over. He did not even look at her as he grabbed his clothing and hastily put it on. He would later burn it, after he had scrubbed himself vigorously in a steaming bath. He hurried out of the room, avoiding the gaze of anyone who came down the hall._

_The castle was quiet, and he briefly wondered what time it was. It couldn't have lasted THAT long…_

_He made his way into his room and politely asked the maid tending to his fire to draw him a hot bath. While she did, he stole a glance at himself in the mirror. The man on the other side look back at him with shame. His hair was ruffled, his lips were chapped, and his eyes were weary. Disgusting._

_Alistair ignored the pain as he burned himself in the water. He wanted any trace of her to be gone, the sickening stench of sex to be burned away with his guilt. He scrubbed at his skin furiously, ridding himself of where she had kissed, touched, or licked. He thought he would never be rid of the lingering touch._

_Stepping out, he dried and pulled on fresh clothing. Without a second thought, the kicked the pre-bath clothes into the fire and watched them burn._

_He found himself walking towards Elissa's rooms. _

_Could he face her? Could __**she **__face him?_

_He gently pushed the door, only to find it locked. He sighed, letting his hand drop. From inside, he could hear her soft sobbing, muffled it seemed by the pillow._

_Elissa…_

_The morning that followed he met her. She smiled at him, but it seemed broken. He had seen that smile many times before. It was the kind she used when bargaining with a merchant or when talking to someone of importance that she didn't quite like. It was a fake smile, one that masked a darker sentiment._

"_So I thought we should go over tactics before going out there. I was thinking, perhaps if I take charge of-"_

_He took her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes._

"_Elissa…you don't need to hide. I know how you feel. I feel __**worse. **__I love you. I will never love anyone else or see them as I see you."_

_She kissed him then and turned back to her scrolls of battle plans._

_He should have felt relieved. But the kiss was as cold as her smile._

_-_

For a time, he remembered, she did seem to have moved on. She was grinning genuinely at their wedding and dancing happily with him, laughter ringing from deep within her. She had taken up her duties as a queen much more easily than Alistair had taken his as a king. Elissa was born into this life, she knew how to manage politicians and etiquette. He thought he'd be the one falling apart by now.

Alistair felt at a loss. He couldn't undo what was done, though Maker knows he wished he could.

His only hope would be that with time, he could restore his beautiful queen to the height of her glory.

-

And in the highest tower of Denerim's royal palace, sat another fallen queen.

Anora looked out at the darkening sky disinterested in anything it had to offer. It had been a little over half a year since her imprisonment and she still had not grown accustomed to the tower's small space and the lack of comforts she was provided with. Sometimes, it was this solitary window that kept her from insanity.

The door opened and Anora did not bother to look over.

"Your Majesty."

"What is it Gregoir?" she asked impatiently.

Though she despised her solitude, she did not like this greasy man any more.

"I have news you would be interested in." he said, licking his lips.

"Oh?" she said, continuing to stare out into the blackness.

"We have found the witch."

At this, Anora turned and fixed her eyes on the slender, beady-eyed, and oily haired man. He resembled something of a rat, with glittering black eyes, and oversized teeth. And that awful twitchiness he had. If her contacts weren't so limited, she would not have had him within ten feet of her.

"And the boy, Gregoir? Is he with her?"

"He is, your Majesty. We are following them very closely. The boy is but a tot now, but if we bide our time…"

Anora smiled.

How comfortable it would be to sit on her plush throne again.

--

_A/N: I am happy to say that my inspiration for this story is growing and I plan to continue with regular updates. Please review! They really keep me going and keep me wanting to spin more chapters for my readers._


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